


Lips Can Lie

by asroarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Image, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kink Meme, Meet-Cute, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Smut, oddly fluffy for porn but you know me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 04:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asroarke/pseuds/asroarke
Summary: She tried to get back into it, but she was itching to turn the light back off. Its presence transformed her excitement into fear. Fear of Bellamy seeing her naked. Fear that he wouldn’t like what he saw. Fear that every dimple on her thighs and roll on her stomach would repulse him.Before her thoughts took the dark turn into a full-on body-loathing spiral, she asked, “Could we keep the lights off?”Winner of the BFWA After Dark for Best Consensual One-Shot





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from the Kink Meme: Meet-cute where Clarke is chubby/curvy/fat/what-have-you and doesn't think a guy as hot as Bellamy could ever be into her, but he totally is. They have sex and Bellamy convinces her how beautiful she is. BP for really getting into the psychology of body image issues!

When the bartender dropped the margarita off, Clarke automatically slid it over to Raven. “It was probably for you,” Raven insisted, and Clarke scoffed. Every drink tonight had been for Raven… just like every time she went out with her. It was already exhausting enough to squeeze into the only dress long enough to cover her chubby thighs. Watching Raven feign surprise when drink after drink came her way had Clarke ready to crawl back in bed.

It didn’t take long for that Zeke guy to come back and pick up his conversation with Raven, and Clarke found herself ordering another whiskey sour. So much for girl’s night.

“You don’t like margaritas?” a low voice asked, and Clarke turned to see a tall man with dark, thick curls plop down in the stool next to her. She hadn’t noticed him around the bar, not that Clarke really looked. After a while, it seemed pointless to let her eyes linger on any of the insanely muscular and too pretty guys that spent their whole evening either trying to get with Raven or that blonde twig over by the exit.

“What?”

“I asked if you dislike margaritas,” he asked, gesturing to the drink Clarke had pushed in front of Raven.

“Oh.” She glanced over at the untouched drink, and Raven’s flirty hair flip accidentally hit Clarke in the eye. “Yeah, no that was for her,” she explained as she rubbed the corner of her eye.

“No, it was not.” There was a smirk on his lips, the smug kind that Clarke wanted to smack right off him. He wasn’t looking into her eyes anymore. His gaze was drifting all over her, lingering a beat too long on her neck.

She blinked a few times, embarrassed by how long it took to figure out he was hitting on her.

“Here,” he smirked as he leaned toward her. She was about to swat him away when she saw that he was reaching past her to grab the drink. He chuckled quietly, his breath fanning out on Clarke’s neck as he pulled back. He managed not to touch her at all, just getting close enough that Clarke caught a whiff of his woodsy cologne.

Her cheeks felt warm as he pulled back, embarrassed by the chill that went down her spine when she felt his breath on her neck or the way she leaned closer when his scent filled her nostrils. The smug look in his eyes told her that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

She shook her head to snap out of it. She was only reacting like this because she never got hit on anymore. If Clarke were a bit more seasoned in being flirted with, like Raven or any of her other gorgeous, skinny friends, she wouldn’t be so affected by Bellamy’s shameless flirting or the obvious way his eyes kept trailing down her body.

“Since Murphy is a terrible bartender who doesn’t follow basic instructions,” he started, earning a scoff from the bartender who was marching past them to fill another drink order, “I’ll be the one to tell you that this is for you.”

“Should I accept a drink from some guy who berates our bartender? Murphy has been good to me tonight,” Clarke sighed, playing with the stir stick as she watched his smirk grow.

“I asked him to give it to the pretty blonde and he half-assed the job. And he may be good to you, but I promise I can be _very_ good to you.” She couldn’t help but chuckle as she took her first sip of the drink.

“What other lines you got?” she teased. He ducked his head as he chuckled, and she found that she kind of liked his laugh.

And she found that she sort of liked talking to him too. Bellamy, as he had told her to call him, was a high school history teacher. Had a sister who just moved to the west coast and dwelled on the subject a bit too long for someone who was just trying to get a girl to go home with him tonight. Clarke almost forgot he was just trying to get laid… almost.

It was hard to forget that when his hand would linger on her knee or with how he stayed just close enough that he could whisper right into her ear with ease, using his low, gravelly voice to make something flutter in her stomach.  And he would drop these cheesy one-liners, the kind that would have made her younger self drag him into one of the bathroom stalls to wrap her lips around what was probably an impressive cock. But Clarke was more experienced now. Those lines were just tools to get in her pants. They didn’t have anything to do with her… a fact she knew because the words _pretty_ and _hot_ just weren’t words that described her.

But each time he tried a line, there was a brief moment where she believed he meant it. Maybe it was the sincerity behind his warm eyes or the easiness of his smile. Or maybe it had been too long since anyone flirted with her and her immunity to cheesy guys in bars had wavered. Regardless, Clarke had already decided she was going home with him. He might be a shameless flirt just trying to get a girl, any girl really, to fuck him, but it wasn’t like there were many people out there who would go for the frumpy friend who chose comfort over Spanx… which in hindsight, Clarke was grateful for that decision. At least now she wouldn’t spend an entire car ride getting anxious over how to slip them off without Bellamy noticing.

“So, wanna get out of here, gorgeous?” he smirked, and she rolled her eyes. Bellamy really was relentless with that mouth of his, she’d give him that.

“Hey, Rae,” Clarke started as she turned her head, but Raven was no longer in the stool beside her. Figures she’d take off without remembering to tell Clarke.

“Sorry, I should have told you she took off with that guy but didn’t want to interrupt you talking about Matisse.”

When she turned back, she expected to see the usual smirk on his lips, but instead, he was just shrugging. In his defense, she did sort of rant about Matisse and likely didn’t offer any pauses for him to interrupt with that info. “Couldn’t you have told me when I was done?”

He ducked his head, which was apparently just an adorable habit of his, as the corners of his lips turned upwards. “Would you believe me if I said that I got so caught up in what you were saying that I forgot?”

“No,” she snorted, and he raised his eyebrows. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

As soon as they were in their Uber, Bellamy was all over her. His hand slipped between her thighs, slowly working his way up. His face was buried in her neck, his tongue and teeth mapping out the column of her throat. She fisted his dark curls as he assaulted her neck, keeping her lips firmly together so that her moans didn’t reach the ears of their driver. She’d almost feel guilty for the way she let Bellamy grope her in this guy’s backseat if it weren’t for the Make America Great Again hat on his head and the Confederate flag bumper sticker on his car. It seemed like having a mouthy bisexual woman and a man of color groping each other in his back seat was part of his penance for being a bigot. So, Clarke threw out any concern for being indecent and dragged Bellamy’s hand up to her cunt.

“Impatient little thing… can’t even wait ‘til we’re home to have my hands on that pretty cunt,” he growled into her skin as his fingers traced the damp circle soaking through her panties. The heat rose to her cheeks, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the filthy words dripping off Bellamy’s lips or from the way their driver’s jaw clenched in annoyance. Didn’t really matter which, though. Clarke still grinded against his hand while he murmured cheesy praises into her neck.

Once inside his building, Clarke barely got a chance to catch her breath. He had her caged between him and the wall during the elevator ride, letting his hands trail over her sides as he pressed his full weight into her. His thumbs reached just below the underwire of her bra when the elevator doors slid open.

She whined quietly as he pulled off her, already missing the feeling of him practically engulfing her. He was taller than her, maybe six feet tall if she were to guess. When she was pressed up against him, she almost felt small. Little. Like a fragile thing surrounded by him.

It was a foreign feeling. She had never really felt small. Certainly not with Finn, who was a twig. Being naked with him was a source of anxiety for her. She was certain all he could see was pudginess around her stomach and thick thighs. She was scared to even get on top of him, like somehow, she could break him… which was ridiculous, looking back. But it still lingered in her mind. In retrospect, maybe she should have taken the chance.  But breaking that twig in half while fucking his brains out was more than he deserved.

It was a little different with Lexa… who really tried to get Clarke’s body image issues. But when you’re born with a naturally slim body and never had to work at staying thin, there’s only so much you could understand. So, Clarke tried to ignore it. Sure, she would only get on top if the lights were off and took to keeping her shirt on when Lexa went down on her, but even then, Clarke still felt… fat. Unattractive. The girl people dated because she was funny or smart… not because she was a hot piece they couldn’t keep their hands off of. And maybe it was shallow of her to crave that, but she did. She wanted to know what is was like to be this dainty girl that was so undeniably sexy that anyone she brought home would look at her in sheer awe and gratefulness that she was even letting them look at her, let alone touch her.

And as Bellamy’s large hand engulfed hers as he pulled her toward his apartment, this giddy, warm feeling pooled in her stomach. Just his hand covering hers made her feel little. That feeling only grew as he tugged her into his apartment before pushing her up against his door. “Fucking finally,” he grumbled before his mouth took hers.

As greedy and hard as his lips on her neck had been, his first kiss to her lips was surprisingly gentle. And warm. His entire body was pressed hard against her, squeezing her body tight between him and the door, but his lips remained soft. And the way his tongue dipped into her mouth… she’d call it filthy if it were more urgent, but the slow pace made it feel reverent.

It was so easy to respond to him, to just shut her mind off and only think about reacting to the tongue exploring her mouth and swallowing his quiet grunts. It wasn’t until minutes later when he pulled away and they were both breathless that she realized how urgent it had become. His hand was now fisting her hair, her hands were gripping his collar, and the two of them were gasping for air.

“Bedroom.” She meant for it to come out like a command. After all, Clarke was a little bossy in all aspects of her life, but especially when it came to getting laid. But her voice sounded smaller than it usually does, a little breathless and pleading. And it wasn’t without an effect on Bellamy, whose lips smirked and eyes darkened as he took a step back. She almost whined at the loss of contact, but he kept both his hands on her as he walked her toward his bedroom.

This time, he had her up a dresser. He flicked the lights on before slamming his lips back onto her neck, this time on the other side… perhaps his way of making sure there was an even distribution of his marks when Clarke woke up in the morning.

She tried to get back into it, but she was itching to turn the light back off. Its presence transformed her excitement into fear. Fear of Bellamy seeing her naked. Fear that he wouldn’t like what he saw. Fear that every dimple on her thighs and roll on her stomach would repulse him.

Before her thoughts took the dark turn into a full-on body-loathing spiral, she asked, “Could we keep the lights off?”

He blinked several times, his brows furrowed as he processed her question. He was going to ask her why. They always asked why. And then Clarke would try to downplay it, but he wouldn’t buy it. And next thing she knows she’s spilling all her body image problems onto a stranger instead of having sex. Fuck, she should have just kept her mouth shut and suffered through having the light on.

After a beat, his face faltered. “Yeah, okay,” he murmured before flicking it back off. Relief should have washed over her once the lights were out. No longer did she have to fear Bellamy seeing her naked in a well-lit room. It meant that Clarke could fuck him however she wanted without her anxieties about her body ruining it.

But something lurched in her chest at this visible disappointment in Bellamy’s eyes. As he leaned forward to kiss her, she stopped him. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, whatever you want, babe,” he shrugged it off, but Clarke stopped him again when he leaned forward. “Okay, I just…”

“You just what?”

“I just wanna see you.” There was no smugness in his voice. No teasing tone that came with all his pick-up lines. No endearment or praise. Just him, with a hint of sadness in his voice, admitting that he wants to see her.

Clarke bit down on her lip and stared back at him. The lamppost outside his building illuminated Bellamy’s face in the dark, meaning she could see the sincerity in his eyes.

So, even though her stomach lurched at the thought, she leaned over to flick the light back on, and the change in his demeanor was immediate.

“There you are,” he grinned as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She tilted her head up in time for his lips to glide against hers again, and the contented moan that escaped his throat sent a chill down her body.

He kissed her like he did before, his mouth demanding her full attention. She felt her mind go blank again, only vaguely aware of Bellamy tugging off his own jacket. She kicked off her heels next, giggling a bit into his mouth when she realized just how much shorter than him this made her.

She tugged at his shirt next, whining until he helped her get it off. Clarke wanted to run her fingers all over the warm, newly exposed skin, but Bellamy had other ideas. His fingers worked the zipper of her dress, and Clarke felt a familiar panic set in.

Clarke tucked her face into his neck, pressing kisses to distract herself from the fact that her dress was about to fall to the ground, exposing every stretch mark to him. “Baby,” he murmured right into her ear. The zipper was completely undone, meaning Bellamy was just waiting for Clarke to pull her arms out of it and let it fall.

He tilted her chin up with his finger, and Clarke locked eyes with him. His were warmer than they had been, not the dark, smug eyes that had watched her for most of the night. She relaxed under his gaze, letting her dress fall to the floor with an easy exhale.

His body snapped back into focus. His hands gripped her waist as he walked her back to his bed. “Fuck, look at you,” he growled right into her ear, his breath hot on her earlobe. “Gorgeous.” She was about to roll her eyes again when the back of her legs hit his mattress. She fell back onto the comforter with a thud. A giggle escaped her lips. There was no way that was hot or graceful.

When she looked up at Bellamy, his eyes were raking over her… staring at her uncovered body for the first time. God, she should have kept the lights off. His soft eyes lingered on her chest, which wasn’t surprising. One silver lining for Clarke’s weight gain had been the massive breasts that came with it. But when his gaze drifted lower, her arms automatically came up to cover her stomach.

”Clarke.” His voice broke on that one syllable. It was low, gravelly, and forlorn. “Will you let me look at you some more?”

She kept her eyes trained on his face as she removed her arms, and there was a small twitch at his lips, curving the corners of his mouth up. His eyes didn’t leave her body as his hands slid up and down her bare thighs. And just when she got her heart rate down again and relaxed into his touch, he whispered one quiet, earnest word that sent a shudder through her entire body.

“Beautiful.”


	2. Chapter 2

From the first moment Bellamy started ranting about school board politics back at the bar, Clarke had been drawn to his hands. He waved them around with such urgency as he spoke, making it hard for her to pay attention to what he was saying. His fingers were long and thick, the kind that would reach the part of her that her own small fingers never could.

His hands stayed in the back of her mind all night. She took note of the warmth of them at her back and their size as he gripped her thigh in the cab. And she shivered at their strength as he had her pinned against the door. After an evening of salivating after them, Clarke was ready to be manhandled by those rough, strong hands of his.

What she wasn’t ready for was the gentle glide of his fingertips down her chest towards her navel as the word _beautiful_ slipped off his lips. Or how his hands traveled up her sides as his eyes raked over her almost naked form. Or how his dark, hungry gaze flooded Clarke with arousal.

It was too much. His eyes alone were too much. No one ever looked at her like that, like he… _wanted_ her. Which was stupid for her to be concerned with. Of course, he wanted her. She was almost naked in his bed. They wouldn’t have gotten this far if he didn’t want her on some level. But his dark eyes said something that all his cheesy lines couldn’t quite capture: he lusted after her.

Clarke tried to sit up, a bit self-conscious under his wolfish gaze. But Bellamy’s hand went to the space between Clarke’s breasts and pushed until she lied back down. “Not done looking,” he growled, and those words went right to her cunt.

His other hand slid down her side and settled on her hip. He traced his thumb over the lace of her panties, his pace gentle and torturous. Clarke pressed her thighs together to get some friction, and a dark smile spread across his features. “Impatient little thing,” he murmured. He lifted his hand from her chest and dragged it down her body until it rested on her other hip. “So eager to show me your pretty cunt, huh?”

Before she could answer, his thumbs hooked under her panties and started tugging. Clarke lifted her hips. He hummed in approval as he pulled them all the way down her legs. And next thing she knows, he was on his knees, pushing her thighs apart.

“Fuck.” The broken way that word escaped his throat caused Clarke to slam her eyes shut. She couldn’t handle that voice alone, which meant she sure as hell couldn’t survive the likely equally wrecked expression on his face.

“Please.” His hands were squeezing her thighs so hard they’ll surely add to the collection of marks and bruises he’s left on her tonight. With a quiet chuckle, he buried his face between her legs. But his mouth didn’t land where she needed it. No, he kissed just outside the folds, and she could feel him smirking into her skin. She tugged at his curls, trying to drag him toward her opening. But he just chuckled and kissed her anywhere but. “Bellamy,” she whined.

He teased her to the point that when he did get around to pressing a chaste kiss to her slit, her hips jerked against him. “Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed before his fingers pushed her folds apart. “You need another kiss?” Clarke bit down on her hand to keep from whining as he nosed at her cunt. “I think my pretty girl needs another kiss.”

The tears prickled at her eyes, though she wasn’t sure if it was just from her cunt clenching around nothing for so long or the soft way that Bellamy called her pretty. She clenched her eyes shut and gripped his comforter as Bellamy’s lips grazed her labia.

“Oh, yes. This is what my beautiful girl needs.” Another jerk of her hips. One of his arms came up to hold her hips down. His tongue licked over her clit as his hand tightened on her waist to hold her down. “Baby, I’m only just starting,” he growled, his hot breath hitting her sensitive clit. She barely got to suck in a breath before he flattened his tongue on her clit and a loud moan was ripped from the back of her throat.

She still tried to buck against his mouth despite him pinning her down. It fueled him, had him lapping at her cunt faster. And when she tugged at his hair… God, the swears slipping off his filthy mouth had her clit throbbing.

“Bellamy,” she whined, and he popped his head up to look at her. She could see her own shiny arousal dripping off his lips. “I’m so close.”

“But you need a little more, huh?” The smirk on his lips was nearly identical to the one he wore at the bar, though she found that she didn’t want to smack it away now. No, she wanted to kiss those smirking lips and hear the filthy praises they brought her. “Baby, I’ll give it to you, but I wanna watch.”

She nodded frantically, letting her eyes fall shut as his hand cupped her cunt. “Please.” She didn’t recognize her own voice as she pleaded. It sounded so small and needy. But it seemed to have an effect on Bellamy if his growl were anything to go by.

His fingers traced over her dripping folds at a leisurely pace. She tried to rub against his hand, but he maintained his firm grip on her hips.

Slowly, two fingers slipped in her cunt, crooking inside her once he got knuckles deep. The stretch burned deliciously, the kind of stretch she wasn’t used to when getting fingered. Lexa’s fingers were as skinny as Clarke’s, and Finn never had the patience to get up to two fingers before yanking his finger out and shoving his cock in. But Bellamy’s fingers… they were something else. Thick and beautiful. Attentive and rough. And if Clarke felt too full from just his fingers, she couldn’t imagine the stretch when his cock was pounding into her.

“Looking so good taking my fingers like this,” he growled. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from moaning at his words, but the moan escaped anyway when his thumb grazed her clit. “Fuck, can’t stop looking at you.” He fucked her faster with his fingers, easing off her clit altogether. “So sexy. Can’t wait to see you bouncing on my cock. You gonna ride me, baby?”

She nodded desperately, her eyes threatening tears as his fingers pounded into her. It was too much, too good. Bellamy was too much. His words had her heart pounding and each touch made her toes curl.

Her hips jerked when he pressed down on her clit again, and she threw her head back. There were moans and whimpers falling off her lips, occasionally joined by words Clarke wasn’t sure made sense. And Bellamy was saying something to her too, probably about how hot she looks right now. The thought makes her want to roll her eyes out of habit, but she knew Bellamy meant it. Lips can lie but eyes can’t. And his brown eyes were full of want and awe and hunger… and she was addicted to them. It was the first time Clarke caught anyone looking at her like that. Looking at her the way she always dreamt someone would.

It was odd. He had his face buried between her thighs and she didn’t once worry about how her thighs would jiggle. In fact, her mind hadn’t drifted once to its normal sources of panic after he called her beautiful.

A blush crept onto her cheeks. It was just a word. One she had heard dozens of times. From her parents, from her friends that tried to console her after a break up, from various partners saying it because they had to. Clarke Griffin could count on one hand the number of times she heard that word and believed it. And yet, some guy she picked up in a bar had her breathless and blushing at just the memory of him saying that word.

A dip in the bed had Clarke propping herself up on her elbows. Bellamy had kicked off his pants and boxers and was now settling in beside her. “Hey,” she grinned, leaning up for a kiss.

“Hey, beautiful.” And a familiar shudder rushed through her right as he climbed on top of her.

He had her caged beneath him as his mouth devoured hers. His cock throbbed at her entrance, tormenting her with its proximity. She squirmed to get some much needed friction, but his full weight on top of her had her trapped.

“You need something?” he teased.

“Yeah, fuck me.”

“Like this?”

“Yes.”

“Thought you wanted to ride me.”

She did nod before when he asked her about it. But that was when he was knuckles deep in her, talking to her like she was the sexiest thing he had ever laid his eyes on. She was confident when she nodded. But now that the high of her first orgasm was wearing off, so did that confidence.

After years of working through her own anxieties with it, Clarke now knew loved being on top, loved bouncing on a cock and being in complete control. But not with the lights on where Bellamy could see each and every part of her that jiggled.

“Or we could just stay like this,” he backtracked. He must have noticed the panic in her eyes, and she wanted to reassure him that it wasn’t personal. That it was just her problems with her body. That normally she’d love to bounce on his cock until she was spent.

When she didn’t say anything, he started kissing down her throat. In a split-second decision, Clarke pushed Bellamy onto his back and straddled his waist. Her heart pounded as she looked down at him, her body now on full display. If there was ever a time for her to feel comfortable on top with the lights on, it was going to be right here with Bellamy, who was beaming up at her like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Want me to ride you?” Her hands were firmly planted on his chest, though they were itching to reach behind to grab his cock.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Yes, fuck, please.”

“Why?”

The grin that formed on his lips was lecherous, the same kind he had when he was undressing her earlier. “What can I say? I like the view.” His hands slid up to grip her ass, swatting lightly at her cheek when he was done speaking.

Another line that would have her eyes rolling if anyone else said it. But coming off his lips, it went straight to her cunt.

She felt a little awkward as she rolled the condom on and scooted back to line her entrance up with his cock. But when she looked back at Bellamy, his eyes were still fixed in a dark, hungry gaze. “Baby, please.”

A familiar shiver combined with nervousness settled into her chest. She wasn’t nervous about the sex, per se. Random hook ups were all too common for her in the last few years. There shouldn’t be anything special about this one. But as the head of his cock breached her entrance, she could feel that this one was important. And maybe it’s because she took a chance and kept the light on. Maybe it’s because she’s not letting her body image problems get in the way of getting fucked just how she likes.

Or maybe it was him and those honest eyes that she wouldn’t be able to forget.

“That’s it,” he whispered as she sunk down on him. The stretch was better than she imagined, filling her in a way that no toy in her drawer could compete with. “Fuck, look at you.”

His hands on her ass guided her back up, and the slide back down was easier than the first. After the first few times, her muscle memory kicked in and she started impaling herself on his cock like she had wanted to since she first felt his hard cock through his jeans. It felt almost exactly like it always did. A familiar stretch, a soft burn in her thighs, the cold air sharp against her breasts.

The only difference was that he could see her perfectly, and she could see him. His hands slid up and down her waist, his awe-filled eyes watching her tits bounce, his mouth running with every filthy thought that popped into his head. He praised her huge tits, begging her to let him sit up so he could get his mouth on them. Beautiful, gorgeous, incredible, and pretty were words used over and over again, each time causing her clit to throb. That mouth of his was going to ruin her, and she loved it.

When she finally let him readjust so he could sit up, his mouth was merciless in its assault on her breasts. His expert tongue had her nipples painfully hard and his teeth left her skin feeling sore and worshipped, a combination that was sure to leave a trail of marks and bruises in its wake.

But then his mouth found hers again, and it was just as gentle and warm as before. Reverent, just like everything Bellamy seemed to say or do, even when it was also filthy. His mouth swallowed her moans as his hands guided her body down onto his cock.

Her fingers were already weaved through his curls when he hit the exact right spot, leading her to tug at his hair and whine into mouth. He swallowed it all, his arms holding her tight against his chest as he thrust up into her.

“Fucking beautiful how you come for me,” he panted when their lips finally parted. She let her eyes fall shut as he kept running his mouth, only focusing on how wretched his voice got as he got closer and closer to the edge. After a few more moments, he held her hips in place and she felt his cock shudder inside her.

They didn’t pull apart right away, instead resting their foreheads against each other as they caught their breath. His eyes fell shut, and Clarke found herself tracing the little freckles scattered across his cheeks. When she let her fingers drip down to his mouth, she found a tiny scar resting above his lip. She couldn’t help but press a chaste kiss to it, earning an immediate grin from Bellamy.

She whined at the loss of his cock once they separated, already missing the fullness that came with having him inside her. But then, his lips were on hers again and his arms encircled her as he pulled her onto his chest. When Clarke peered up at him, his eyes were trained on her. The hunger before replaced by something softer, something she didn’t have a word for. But she liked it. She liked the way he looked at her. And maybe she could learn to look at herself the same way.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, you can find me on tumblr and twitter as asroarke. comments and kudos always appreciated. love y'all


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